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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24006154">The Crimson Knight</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackViking/pseuds/BlackViking'>BlackViking</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supergirl (TV 2015)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternative Universe - Kingdom, Anger, Church knights, Demons, Elves, F/F, F/M, Gay Sex, Girl Penis Kara, Illusions, Inn Keeper Winn, Jötnar | Jotuns | Frost Giants (Norse Religion &amp; Lore), Kings &amp; Queens, Knight Kara, Knights - Freeform, M/M, Mage James, Mild Gore, Old Gods, Oral Sex, Past Child Abuse, Past Torture, Past Violence, Public Humiliation, Revenge, Werewolves</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:36:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,418</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24006154</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackViking/pseuds/BlackViking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Nightmares of her past plague Kara's dreams as she yearns for freedom from it, but in a world torn by war, as demons and monstrous fiends roam unchecked. When tasked to rid monsters from blackwoods of Braxton, Kara finds herself down the rabbit hole when she visited by an old companion.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kara Zor-El/Samantha Arias</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sky is twilight, bedarkened, weeping gouts of rain flood and drown the fields in swampy terrain, as dark grey clouds, churlish and Kraken-cruel, girdle a full pale moon. </p><p>The streets were few with townsmen rolling their carts full with the death of young folk and elderly alike. The stench of death was in the air, choking as it fills the lungs. </p><p>From the pyres beast burns, and from their charred corpse rose black smoke, swirling artistically in the marshes, permeating an acrid odour. On the posts and cobblestone pillars sat burning sconces like beacons in the area. A useful thing to ward off fire-fearing monsters.</p><p>The grounds of this backwoods town has long since been abandoned, cut off like a disease.</p><p>On the taverns and crippling walls hung faded banners of white, depicting the old lord's crown. A symbol of protection long since dissolved by the silver lord of Luthoric, the elf king.</p><p>A narrow bridge, crooked and broken, hovers over a young hunter leading her laden horse. The people of Dublin watch from their stoops, sitting on their wet crates and barrels, whispering in dark corners: <em> 'A hunter, a monster-killer, a slayer of beast and man, a wanderer, church filth.'  </em>To name a few. They spit at her fleeting footfalls nonetheless.</p><p>Slivers of moonlight bore the woman's twilight blue hooded cloak. The town's folk peeps the adorned leather scabbard moiety wrapped in grey sheep fur on her red leather, silver-studded saddle.  </p><p>The mourning of women could be heard as the men grunt, digging graves behind the old church. The air was thick with pain, hate, and death. The people here suffered greatly, and without the protection of the church; innocents are slaughtered, and babes are taken from their cradles. The roads soon becoming unsafe.</p><p>The wanderer paused in front of a thatched home. She stood a few paces from the door. Patches of moss bearded the wet cobblestones at the base. Noises came from inside, she waited a moment. At the notched frame sat a sign of an anvil and hammer. This was the home of Aldo, the lefty-blacksmith, the man she was here to see. Three raps against the door, loudly, drew the attention of the occupants. The noise fell to a hush, and the quickening of steps came shortly. The entrance of the home swings open and the face of a woman stood in the doorway. She was thin and garbed in plain clothes. Her face faintly covered in dust.</p><p>"Come in, quickly now." She closed the wooden door shut behind the wanderer.</p><p>The hooded woman stood amid the people. She was flanked by a young man of middle-age. A strip of hair at the very tip of his chin. He wore dark trousers and a laced overcoat, his leather boots were capped at his knees. His eyes were like poison at the young wanderer. A young boy sat on his left, clad in linen and leather and a wool cap atop his blonde head, and a gap-tooth. Next to the young boy was a woman of fair skin. She had hazel eyes and wore a long green overskirt. She looked a few years older than the hunter herself. Her mantle draped over her shoulders as she rubs her swollen belly near the furnace. There were a few others in the back, hunched over in worn drapes. They sat at a laden table with tipped cups where they ate stew and tore from loaf bread, which appeared stale.</p><p>The man in the laced overcoat stood with a grim look on his face. He was likely the boy's father, perhaps, as he gestures for the child to gather Aldo, the blacksmith.</p><p>Two women on their hands and knees; their fingers wet and dirty as they scrubbed at the filthy plank floors. There was one, young and scarred across her cheek, attempts to gawk but lowers her head instantly in fear at the thumping footfall of heavy boots. The man that came was tall, burly, a thick cropped brown beard on his swollen chin, and a woven braid that fell down his back. He wore sheep pelts on his shoulders. His garb was of thick lasing leather. His boots were worn with wet mud, leaving fresh bootprints on the hard scrubbed floor.</p><p>"Follow me." </p><p>The man said, his voice unpleasant and thick. He carried a small iron hammer in his hands.</p><p>The hunter followed three steps behind the man, where they met in Aldo's chambers: a place of private discussion and secret meetings.</p><p>"Come along, hunter."</p><p>The man shuts the door fast behind. He stands on the blacksmith's left, his thumb caresses the iron of his hammer. His glooming eyes stared at the hunter with raw anger. Dublin was not the only place where church knights were not welcome. No matter. She wasn't here for him, and she could care less for his ill thoughts.</p><p>Aldo sat in his chair, hunched over with papers and drink in front of him on the table. On Aldo's right sat another man, bald and young with a trim of blond on his upper lip. </p><p>"Aldo?" Spoke the young man. His eyes shifted between his friend and the strange woman before them.</p><p>"I had no choice."</p><p>"But... the law. You know what would happen if we're seen with <em> their </em> kind." </p><p>The man argued.</p><p>"Leave. Now. The both of you."</p><p>The men stormed out, slamming the door shut.</p><p>The room became silent with just the two of them now. Aldo gazes at the stranger standing at his table. He could see little of the woman's face as she stood perfectly still, silent, motionless in front of the blacksmith. He saw that she carried no weapon, no shield, not even a dagger; which was hidden on her leather belt.</p><p>He stood to pour ale in cups, slightly filled to the brim. He sits a tankard in front of the hunter.</p><p>"Understand this: I would never have sought you out, or any of your ilk if I did not have a choice. But I can no longer stomach the death of my kinfolk while our so-call 'leaders' do nothing. For too long have these raids terrorized the town and its people. However, it is not of the savages that I speak of."</p><p>The hunter said nothing and watch as Aldo drank from his cup and belch, he wipes his mouth as he pours more beer. From the opening of her cloak, the hunter handed a wad of grey wolf pelt on black leather. </p><p>"I took it from your messenger," the woman said calmly.</p><p>"Yes. A man... a wanderer told me about you; it's the reason where I knew to find you: from him. I assume my man is dead?"</p><p>"Dead. Torn from limbs. It was too late by then." She clarifies.</p><p>"Pity. Perhaps I was wrong not to send more for the delivery."</p><p>"It would not have made a difference. The roads are dangerous. The mountains even more so."</p><p>Aldo snorted. </p><p>"What do you know." His words were harsh.</p><p>"I know you're wasting my time," Arthur replied. Her voice still calm, never raising slightly high. </p><p>Aldo's jaws tense. He leaned in his chair, scratching the hairs on his thick chin. </p><p>"Are you really a monster-slayer? I don't see weapons, and you are far too young to be a member of the church.</p><p>She said nothing. True, the hunter was young, but a follower? No. The hunter left that life long ago.</p><p>Aldo drank and then spoke again. </p><p>"Tell me, have you ever dealt with trolls, little stout-like and ugly green bastards?"</p><p>The woman nodded to show she did. "Also killed some hairy Giants during my travels. But you probably doubt that."</p><p>"Indeed." </p><p>Aldo said, rather quickly. "Ever heard of... uh, Dragurs?"</p><p>"Only stories told by heathens. Never seen one honestly. But from what I've heard: they're never above ground and travel during the sun's presence. They stay in the tombs of the dead, guarding riches in coffins from would-be graverobbers. But those are nothing more than fairytales. No one's seen them."</p><p>Aldo leaned back in his chair.</p><p>"Perhaps, hunter. Perhaps... fine. You look capable enough. Maybe you're not as useless as I first thought you to be."</p><p>He spoke. </p><p>"There's a Baron up across the valley east. He's a difficult man to deal with. If he knew about your whereabouts here, even in this dunghill of a place. I will lose everything, he <em> might </em> even kill you and me. But if you are as you say, then he will have a problem, I'm sure?"</p><p>Aldo filled his cup again. He was undoubtedly a drinker.</p><p>"Right now, my people deal with the wolves that stalk our stock, and they put an end to them, but if they knew we had trolls lurking about, unholy creature snatching folk from the roads... these<em>  filthy monstrosities </em> plague the forest, encroach on the town, twice in the same day. Unfortunately, it's becoming a difficult task pushing them back. And the Baron does nothing. Few people; they try to keep it a secret." </p><p>His voice was troubling as he spoke. Aldo looked out his window at the drowning rain. The beads of water ran the glass square panels, sizzling through the fire of the pyres. Aldo must have appointed himself in charge of this place if he wanted the people safe more than himself.</p><p><em> How selfless,  </em>thought the wanderer.</p><p>"A month ago. Few of the men of the town went out hunting. They found a white-tailed deer torn to shreds by a pack of wild animals: wolves undoubtedly. They defended themselves, but one of the men fell into a hole. And he was lost for half the day until discovered in a trench with his arms torn, and guts spilt; his head gone from his body. Poor bastard. Then just three days ago, a fisherman was attacked along the shores. He was barely alive last I saw him. He and his son fished near the old woods. It's a forbidden part of the territory until the problem is dealt with..." </p><p>Aldo reaches for his purse and pulls out five copper coins, adorned with the king's face. He holds them up to the hunter and throws them on the table. </p><p>The wanderer stared at the coin bearing the face of the old lord of Krypton. Her jaws were tense as her eyes gloomed with rage unnoticed by the man. She knows the face well enough.</p><p>"I don't care for your kind, hunter. However, I need your cursed ways of dealing with these abominations. This is but a small portion of your fee. You'll get the rest when the job is done. But be warned wench: try to run before the deed, and I'll put a bounty on your head. Twice as much you would've received. I may not be an important man or a Baron, hunter, but my name is good around these parts. See that it's done."</p><p>Choosing to ignore his threat; the hunter took the two silver minted coins. There was no point in causing unnecessary bloodshed. Though in the olden days, Aldo would surely have been killed for his impudence.</p><p>"Where should I start looking?" </p><p>The woman asked.</p><p>"Start your search north. There is a great tree on the sloping hills near the black woods. You will find a village, damned and abandoned by its people long ago. I believe it is where you will find them." </p><p>Aldo peered into his mug and saw it empty. He mumbles before pouring another. The hunter stood, and Aldo saw her to the door. Outside the home, more people had gathered, damped in their clothes. The faint mutters had not ceased since the traveller's arrival had stepped in the house. Her presence stirred them once more with their bigotry.</p><p>"I need you to be quick about this. I can't have the Baron finding you here, understand?" </p><p>Aldo said quietly. As some of the locals went, few remained, stalking nearby in the corners. It was sure to the hunter that the Baron would know soon enough.</p><p>"Depends."</p><p>"On what?"</p><p>"Whether I can kill your monster or not."</p><p>"Make sure you do before you die, woman. Many so-called 'monster-slayers, mercenaries...' we found little of them in the morning. We assume those bastard trolls ate them, even their horses were bits and chewed. Oh, there's something else you should know. Two men were attacked yesterday."</p><p>"Did you burn their bodies?" she asked curiously.</p><p>"Only one," said Aldo. "The moment we found him in the fields near the old creek."</p><p>The hunter looked off into the distance. The smell of decaying human flesh lures Crawlers. She would have to be careful about travelling the grounds and watch for freshly made pits. </p><p>"I should be back in the morning or late in the noon. Either way, your problem will be over."</p><p>"Do you have a name? You never mention it. I feel it best to know if you die." </p><p>The hunter's eyes drifted to the bearded man. She sighed. She had never thought to ever say her name, as it was unlikely that she would see them again. When Aldo met her gaze, he felt drawn into her eyes. The icy blueness generated a feeling like he was being pulled into a lake of frozen emotions. It was like all the myriad shades of blue swirled together to form a whirlpool of apprehension. He could tell by her body language that she did not like him, and those flickering azure orbs confirmed his thoughts.</p><p>"Kara." </p><p>She tells him.</p><p>"Kara, huh?" Aldo said with a faint smile. "So, Kara. When should I be visited by that bald feather friend of yours? Or is he already here?"</p><p>"When the job is done," Kara told him.</p><p>"How will I know him?"</p><p>Arthur grinned at the thought.</p><p>"Look for his bald head." </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kara nears the entrance of the town's gates. They were two inches thick of metal and wood. Sconces burned at the two pillars, casting long shadows of abstract images in the meadows. Thunder rolled above, a booming rumble as lightning cracks through the twilight canvas as if the skies were going to rend apart. The night was early, and the moon was bright, and the air was windy. The gale unsteadily whisks the tree leaves from the branches. </p><p>As Kara spurred her horse to the forbidden grounds of Dublin to the north. She pulled on the leather reins. Her mare's thundering hooves split through the wind, beating the rugged lands. His dark mane whips in the moist air. His muscles tense and ripple under his smooth pelt as his sturdy legs carries them. He leapt over fallen logs, avoided the ragged rocks and craggy boulders to advance their approach. The hunter pulled him here and there, gliding along the up and downward slopes. The winds lashing at them. </p><p>She urges her horse forward, despite the booming thunder spooking him every now and then. Yet Kara knew she could count on him to ride on still. </p><p>Soon they came upon the tree of which Aldo spoke of. A bleak bark of withering moist leaves, clinging to spiky twigs of murky branches. They twisted up insanely and spread, like limbs climbing from a dark hellish pit. Black and peeling bark fell in the puddles swimming at its moulding stalk. At the very tops of the contorted branches sat black ravens. Their cries echo in the wind and mingle with the splattering rain. They flap their sooty wings, tossing the water from their feathers. Some fly below, picking from the earth, pulling worms with their black beaks as they jolt and tug. </p><p><em> The heathens spoke of these creatures, </em>  Kara thought.  <em> These are the supposed eyes of the pagan god Odin, the allfather of Asgard, of the Aesir, the ever seeing and knowing. </em> Kara spits at the thought: there was no such god; she found it all to be rubbish, no matter what the ancient text transcribe by the scholars said. </p><p>There is only Rao. </p><p>In the distance, across a grey valley of fog. Kara could see the dark writhing tree branches, eternal and misshapen, emerged as if hunched over the dilapidated village like a black covering. Fragments of moonlight painted the landscape an eerie silver. The scene made Kara feel a bit uneasy; she calmed herself, gathering her strength and wit and pressed forward. </p><p>Fear had no place here. </p><p>Kara commanded her horse, trotting across the misty meadows. The heavy hooves squelch in the muddy gorged puddles. The buzzing of insects went about around them. The path that led to the old village cross over a blue brook babbling, and burbling; it sprung over the stone rocks the size of duck-eggs, wounding itself straight to the abandoned town. When Kara arrived at the gap-tooth palisade, she noticed the glow of inscribed symbols etched onto seven withering ashen stones. Crimson candles burned a cerulean flame outside the small thatch house. Kara recognized the symbols to be alchemical of protection. </p><p>She dismounted her mare, tying his leather reins to a wooden beam in the earth. Her horse snorts a discomfort at the croaking of ravens flying overhead, and the howling in the bitter wind. He nudged his head at his mistress, his heels stomping in place, and his tail wagging frantically. Kara comforted him with soft, gentle strokes to his smooth pelt, brushing his thick loose mane as she whispered calming words.</p><p>The homes were boarded, windows and doors barred tight, tangles in rotted, twisted branches.</p><p>Kara took off her cloak, setting it atop the saddle. She then unwrapped her oblong sword from the grey sheep fur, drawing the blade from the leather scabbard with a quillion hilt, the intricate silver siderite blade, kissed by moonlight, illuminates the three runic signs, which glowed a blue flame. </p><p>There was wilderness surrounding the homes, as vegetation took its rightful place, smothering the charred ruins, cracked stables, and rotten beams. Above were ghostly horsetails of moss hanging from barrel-thick boughs like entrails. There was a strong presence here; one that beckons caution. Kara climbed over some barrels to a wall, which displayed a towering, black-rooted and crude structure. Veins and moss covered the bulging stones; it was lichen-encrusted, and a rotting roof lay upon it. She landed in a small yard leading to the black tower when she was hit with the rancid stench. At the entrance was death. A scent she was very familiar with. Mounds of old gnawed bones, a midden heap of gleaming ribs and grinning cracked skulls, caught the fires blaze. </p><p>Iron pillars circled the mass of rotting flesh and bones. Atop these iron staves, impaled were the heads of the stout-bastards Aldo spoke of. Their eyes were torn from their sockets, and their tongues nailed between their brows as tiny maggots fed off their flesh, burrowing and falling from the opening of their mouths.</p><p>Kara scoffed. <em> At least this part is done for me...  </em></p><p>Through the cracks of the tower seeped a crimson-black, gleaming with a deadly lustre, like thin streams of flowing water. From its interior came the most piteous moans and stomach-souring thumps. A caterwauling sound, somewhere between a tortured whine and a despairing screech, echoing in the night. The tormented screams of the victims were not human, but that of some beast. </p><p>The stout tower loomed against the darkening blue of the night sky. </p><p>Kara fixed her penetrating eyes on the dreaded place, the feeling of fear once more dances on her spine. The beating of her heart pounds beneath her breast like a drum. She could feel the darkness, the evil of some unearthly thing residing. In the shroud cleft of the tower. </p><p>Kara descends below its dark depths. </p><p>The tunnel curled away in infinite nightfall. It was cold, colder down in the depths as the hunter went. The air stinks of a pungent stench mixed with a tinge of sickening sweetness: a rotting piece of meat sprayed with goblin piss. </p><p>Kara came to a small chamber. Along the walls stood shelves, wooden and layered rust towering to the ceiling. The ancient text of leatherbound books took the empty spots in the niches, crammed with cracked skulls betwixt. There were strange images on the walls, paintings of a battle from some war that eluded Kara. The drawings were old, peeling at her fingertips with the brushing off the webbing. <em> Perhaps a chapter in history forgotten by the world? </em> Kara ponders. From what she could see: three warriors warred against the pagans of the north. One of them bores a green sword. </p><p>There then came a sound. Kara turned her head abruptly to the rustling behind the wall. In the silence of the small chamber, footsteps could be heard from a slab of stone. The steps were light, quiet like a whisper. </p><p>Almost. </p><p>The sound of some wood hit against the ground as it went along the footfalls. She errs on the side of caution, waiting for the person to pass. There was a gap behind the hollow stone. Kara passed through with ease and caught a glimpse of a man departing some hidden passage. He carried a black staff in his bony hand. His cloak was made of raven feathers, tattered, dragging the ground like a curvy black river. The wall closes behind him as he faded in the misty darkness of the night. A magnificent aura of evil roused from him.</p><p>
  <em> What the hell... </em>
</p><p>The flickering of yellow light cast along the walls from the long corridor. Kara arrived at the plundered chamber, where she came to some stairs, leading her to what seems like an old tomb. Moss swelled and seeped through the barrel-vaulted canopies, branches covered the brick floors and crept along the cubbyhole walls. Red candles were scattered here and there, burning atop jagged stones, some were in bundles as melting wax dripped upon the rocks. Faint moaning coming from down below. Kara followed the disturbing sounds. The whimpering was more clearly now: a woman's pleading, weakly and crying.</p><p>In the room, Kara saw them on the slab of stone. The beast's face was buried in the crook of the woman's neck. The disproportionately small head sat on a long neck was surrounded by a curly halo of grey-white hair, which shrouds the girl's upper body. Yet her cries are heard, a low whimper as his teeth sunk into her throat. </p><p>The creature throws his head up at Kara's presence. His mouth is bloodsoaked, crimson drips on the girl, his skin is the colour of a dusty pale moon. His eyes are white with specks of black-yellow: a sickly glance. As his elongated tongue slurps the woman's blood from his wicked mouth; the beast stared Kara down, sizing her up. He stood on all fours. His long arm reaches behind the stone table, pulling a curved knife made of bone with blood-letting teeth covered in dry blood. The beast was big, at least seven inches taller than Kara. A gaunt form, feet full of mangled hair. Around his waist was a ragged loincloth, twine with dusty-grime, cracked skulls. Most likely, his victims. The monster hunched over, creepy-like as he gawks his potential victim. </p><p>The beast then stood on his hind legs. He opens his jaws wide, a set of pointed teeth, sharp as ragged rocks. A deep screeching, terrible and loud rings throughout the chamber. An attempt at intimidating the monsterhunter. </p><p>Kara could see the tensing in his body, the blackness of veins throbbing, coursing like tiny webbing of rivers across his skin. Kara draws her sword. The silver siderite blade resonates, the runic symbols glowing. </p><p>The monster then rushes, slashing away and, with quick jabbings. Kara blocks the attacks at first, gaining a discernment of the monster moves, moving to the right side; she skidded on her foot, coming 'round with her sword, delivering a swift slice to the beast belly. He stumbled backwards, holding against the wound.</p><p>The wound sizzles. The elements on the sword, blessed by divinity, would suggest that this creature is some form of vampire or shares similarities. Kara moves, taking a few steps back and, without dropping her guard, breathed deeply and prepared.</p><p>Once more, the monster pressed his attack, again and again, as he gains ground; he uses quickening strikes to his advantage. However, rapid succession strikes were not enough. Years of experience battling foes told to scare children had made Kara more than enough to fight whatever came at her. </p><p>It's what she was trained for. Moulded for.</p><p>The monster swings about, slashing at whatever flesh he could reach. Every miss whistle through the air, inches from hitting their mark. The monster swung blindly with fury, received a firm kick to the stomach, tumbling backwards into small pillars, crumbling the rocks near to dust. The bone-blade fell from his grasps as he thrashed about angrily and, failing with rage, stood, the dust falling from his bruised body.</p><p>Kara stayed her hand, eyes lock-on, carefully waiting for the creature's next move. She raised her blade, preparing for whatever attack comes after. The monster circled slowly, baring bloody fangs, his eyes seething.</p><p>At that moment, he leaps in the air to some stairs, and with an impressive leap, dives, long black fangs leave their marks on the hunter's leather tunic. Yet, Kara threw the beast aside, muscles tensing at the weight of the monster. The silver pommel whacks the creature on the head. The creature turned on his toes, grasping the grounds, recovering with renewed posture and attacks again. Kara fleeted back on her heel, never losing focus or sight on the barrage of attacks, with such skill she fought back. </p><p>The beast lunged, rubbed against her with his bony side. He came at the hunter, slicing, gnashing with his long fangs; his teeth inches from Kara's stomach; felt the heat from his mouth almost like a forge is the best she could describe. </p><p>As the beast walked, snarling, Kara kept a watchful eye. To her surprise, the vampire-like creature flew forwards, tackling her hard to the ground, tumbling near the lamenting woman. With his mouth wide open, Kara had little time before those jagged fangs came crashing down, she held the throat, applying great force, pushes back, bringing her knees up and with a firm kick the monster off. He fell, slid along the floor, slamming into the wall.</p><p>His flailed his arms, his anger reverberated within. </p><p>Kara saw this beast was quick in his attacks, but he was sloppy, inexperienced. That itself was enough for her, as the creature dashed as her, Kara struck another blow. The monster started to wail, furiously, filling the chamber with a shrill howling echo that would frighten even the most skilled warriors.</p><p>The monster sprang up, rage and lust for murder coursing. Kara drew her sword, gloved hands clenching the leather handle. She waited. She knew this fight was going to be drawn out, hopefully not too long.</p><p>The creature charged, like a crazed animal, into a frenzy of attacks. Kara guarded against the onslaught, she rolled aside as the cover behind her was destroyed, blocking a high and, jumped a low sweeping attack. </p><p>She leapt backwards, evades an attack meant for her leg. Kara propelled over the back of the creature and, throwing her knee into the beast's jaw with great force. The monster stumbled, holding his stance as he once more swung his talons. Kara skids back, changing directions to throw the fiend off. But the creature kept his advance, turned, striking a deathly blow, nearly catching the hunter off her guard. Kara pivoted to her left, having little time to react before she was tackle off her feet once again and thrown to a column stone, cracked when she hit it, sending a sharp pain to her back. Kara quickly took to her feet, rolled, quickstepping to the right and, in time, blocked a fierce attack. She stuck and swung for the chest, missing. The creature leapt back, following with a quick return of vicious strikes. Kara moves, receiving a swift slash at her torso. She staggers over, holding her side. She looks at the blood in her hand and scoffs. </p><p>The monster taunts, licking his talons, a sinister crackling escaping from his soaked lips. Kara smiles maliciously at the beast. An impressive feat at his end. It's been months since a foe drew blood.</p><p>The creature snarls, black-blood running down his chest. He backs away slowly, his grimy soaked talons twitches, his cold, angry eyes shifts to the creeping woman. </p><p>Kara had caught his glooming eyes. She knows where they gawk.</p><p>The monster sprung up. Kara saw the madness in his eyes, burning like fire. He traced the grounds below him, sparks brewing at his long talons. </p><p>Kara spun her sword, waiting. The beast did not attack, approaching slowly to the hunter's right, following the warrior as she was steadfast.</p><p>She was ready to end this fight, it dragged long enough. That was her fault. However, it was then that the beast had begun to make a swift head-on attack. <em> Foolish. </em> Kara swung with a broad stroke, the monster curled, retreating in a way Kara had not suspected. The creature jumped, higher than the hunter had not anticipated, he plunges near the woman. His long, bony hand scoops the woman, throws her over his shoulder, leaps, sinking his claws to the blackened walls. </p><p>Kara mutters a curse and gives chase, she lept over a boulder and with a few quick steps, twirled and, near-perfect aim hurls her longsword at the beast. Satisfaction when the beast leg severs. The creature cries out horribly, trying desperately to hang on to his meal, but he can't. The woman shrieks and slips free as the tightening hold loosens, and they both fall. The girl rolls aside, unharmed by the short drop as she hid behind the balustrade. The monster's wailing bellows from his wide jaws, filling the caves with a booming noise that shakes loose pebbles and, even worn plaster from the jagged ceilings. He scampered about, his claws ringing against the stone. The foul thing sprang up, zigzagging the floors as he drew closer and closer. Kara eluded his advances, his sharp fangs, talons extended.</p><p>She rolled, grabbing her sword, the blade shimmering in the candles, as her eyes illuminated by the dancing flames, Kara firmly grasps the hilt. Though the cave grew dark, slowly, the beast preyed in the shadows, yet the permeated stench remained. More than enough for the hunter. Kara felt a surge of energy coursing through her muscles, hot, burning as a blacksmith's forge. Her eyesight sharpens, and her breathing became silent. Her body gently throbs.</p><p>The monster came, snarling and lunged, teeth and claws lashed out, extending tongue flailing at the mouth. When the distance became shorten, Kara revolved to her left; she twirls the sword in her hands with quickening speed, driving the blade through the beast's back, and with a twist, spills the monster's innards. She rips her sword, standing over the fell creature with her sword high above her head as the blood glistens amid the fluttering flames. </p><p>She drives the silver blade down into the beast's misshapen skull. The tip of the sword stabs into the ground, pooling a black puddle at Kara's boots.</p><p>It was over. The chamber fell silent, save for the whimpering of the woman.</p><p>Kara stood centre of the chamber. Prolonging the fight proved to be somewhat helpful: learning the enemy's attacks for undocumented creatures. A thing her mentor thought her as a young woman.</p><p>Kara placed her foot, pulling the sword from the deceased creature. She wipes her sword clean, sheathing it. She turns to the woman huddled beneath a broken stone's arch, cowering in fear. Kara could hear her heart beating. She stood beside the woman, as she shivered, cold, and her body aching. The woman had a few cuts and bruises as Kara inspected her slim form. Her plaints were faint now, dwindling more and more. </p><p>The sepulchre was becoming darker with the fleeting of candlelight. The quiet woman sat in morose, arms wrapped around her. "It's all right. You're safe now." Kara told the woman, extending her hand.</p><p>The woman threw her arms at Kara's waist. Her grip was tight, firm as she squeezed, this did not bother the hunter in the slightest.</p><p>"Þakka þér fyrir." </p><p>The spoke in her native tongue. Which struck curiosity with the hunter.</p><p>"You're a pagan?" Kara asked in the woman's tongue. The woman nodded her head. </p><p>The trembling soon settles, and the young woman seemed to be at peace... for now. Kara had questions she kept to herself, as it was unlikely that this woman knew the answers to them. Aldo had not mentioned a pagan. <em> If he even knew one was here anyway,  </em>Kara thought.</p><p>"Come, we have to go." </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kara took her by the hand, helping the woman to her feet on trembling knees. Thin she was, her nightgown, torn and filthy with specks of blood. Her hair of blonde hangs in stringy blood-clotted clumps. She was shorter than Kara. The wound on her neck bleeds, flesh painted over by a deep hue of red. Her skin slowly shifted in her face, ghostly chalk under fair skin with freckles, though one would hardly notice.</p><p>"What is your name?" Kara asks. Thankful she had learned the etymology of the pagans.</p><p>"Hulda," she said with quaking lips.</p><p>"Stay close to me, Hulda."</p><p>Kara threw the woman's arms over her shoulder, carrying her through the chamber towards the stairs. The steep stone steps had Hulda puffing, needing help towards the end. By the time they had crawled to the surface, through wet grime and mud, Hulda had fallen exhausted. Kara reached out for her, letting Hulda rest on her. They emerge into the brisk wind where a thick mist blinded them. Luckily, Kara could see the glow of the candles where she left Millie, her horse. When they came near, Millie raised his head. He trotted in place, his straight lace tail of darker chestnut stiffly upright; he was happy to see his mistress. Hulda was first to mount with Kara's help.<br/>It was later in the night when a sudden storm gripped the land in thick icy sheets of rain that obscured Kara's vision. The moon no longer shone amid the twilight sky, as it was hidden behind the black veil of grey clouds as the gale heaves them across the night.</p><p>Later in the night, along the mountainside, below, Kara had sought shelter in a grotto.</p><p>She found wood, made a small bonfire. The flames crackled in the entrance of the cave, providing a small radius of light as it projects shadows of a troubled mare, and shapes of fern branches. The fire itself was pulsating, glowing embers seemed to move in rhythm with the flames, matching every dip and sweep. It was terrifying to watch, the colours of orange and red gave way to yellow and white near the centre, where the emanating heat was the most prominent. And from the overhead clumps of moss comes cold drippings of rain seeping through the ragged ceilings, cracking against the stone floor, pooling near the open flames.</p><p>Skewered meat cooked over the fire. Kara crouches, eye-to-eye with the trembling woman, handing her some plain chicken.</p><p>"You should eat. There's still a ways to go..."</p><p>Hulda says nothing. She simply grabs it, silently whispering her gratitude. She takes little bites, chewing slowly. Kara held a cup to her lips, watching as Hulda take small sips.</p><p>"Eat. When you are finished, sleep. We will leave at first light."</p><p>Kara said. She sat near the fire, staring at the flames, warm to the touch on her skin, masking the cold gale that bites at her flesh. Kara caught the cracks of wood, every burst reminds her of life breathing; that little speck of spark that filters into a world of suffering. Gabriel was wrong; his lecture of the flames was not of hope, beacons of unity. Those times are over. In the face of the world: it is a sign of war, death and chaos. Kara should have known that.</p><p>The lightning strikes in the distance, booming across the skies, which started, Millie, raising her head. The winds howled through the grotto, tossing the flames slightly.<br/>Kara saw to Hulda's eating, filling her cup and lading her plate.</p><p>"Eat up."</p><p>She said softly.</p><p>Hulda continues to eat and drink, paying no mind to the last of the hunter's words. Her eyes widely, solely focused on the young warrior sitting near the crackling flames. The flickering fire that Kara's salubrious figure captures ever so brilliantly. Hulda's heart pounds beneath her breast, her mouth running suddenly wet at the sight of the hunter. She sighs sharply, eyeing Kara like a wild dog.</p><p>She sees the dagger skimming in the hunter's palm, the reflecting of the flames masks the intricate blade's design as it slowly twirls in her hand. The red cloth tightly dressed the hilt. And her thoughts ran: Hulda wants to use that very knife for her own dark forming intentions. The young woman rocks on her heels in the dark corner. Her skin changes, a ghostly black-grey as her hair gave way to a dusty white with strains of black. Hulda's eyes were wide and glazed over with tiny specks of red. The light from the fire would soon give out, then, and only then would she have her sweet, sweet prize...</p><p>The wind howls and the rain drifts the short grass and the grime from the walls of the mountain. The moon, it slivering light cracked through the darkened clouds. A cry of a raven resonates the twilight sky. Inside the cave, Kara's mare was becoming troubled by the danger he felt. His hooves, loudly, beat in place as he tugs at his reins from the makeshift post; his alarming snorts and neighing awake Kara from her sleep. She pulls the covering from her body, comforting her chestnut friend from his uneasiness. It was then that she heard the painful sounds in the dark, the light snarling. The panting grows louder, followed by laboured breathing, wheezing as a sickling woman. The cracking of bones, breaking, shifting.</p><p>The fire was exhausting, and the cave ran black with the fleeting of the last flames. Kara glanced in the direction of the sounds. She called for the woman she could no longer see. Yet felt the disturbance in the air. Kara drew her small dagger, walking cautiously towards the direction of the woman. Every once of her body screams, as if trying to warn her of the blindness to her surroundings...</p><p>Fire blazes across Kara's shoulder as a sharp bite pierces through her leather and wool. Long, lean arms are wrapped around her body, squeezing as hard as a werewolf. Being caught off guard plays the advantage to the creature wringing its teeth into her shoulder. Kara releases a cry, kicks off on her feet, driving the monster into the wall. But it's not enough. The beast squeezes harder, bites deeper, as it means to tear her arm from her body. Kara thrashes, feeling the burn course through her body, invading her veins with its molten like touch. She can feel her ribs crushing slowly.</p><p>Kara shifted her weight on her legs as she threw herself back once again, breaking free of her right arm, throws her elbow into the neck of the monster. The beast's firm grip breaks. Kara throws a punch, but the fiend evades, tossing Kara aside. Dropping her dagger. Her shoulder aching something fierce. It burns hot, hotter than anything she's felt before, boiling the muscles.</p><p>Her body felt weak. Kara knew herself becoming numb, but she had to fight. That's when Kara saw her. The woman she had rescued from the blood-red fangs of some monster. Kara couldn't understand how, or why, but Hulda was no longer herself. Her body was contorted, limbs extended beyond her own. Her black claws dug into the cave floor. Her crimson soaked teeth dripped as her now silver-black mane flutters in the breezing wind; her skin renewed, a pale, dusty moon, as veins painted her face; like thin, tiny black streams, throbbing. Her clothes did little to hide her monstrous shape.</p><p>Heavy panting escaped from Kara's lips, her lungs felt like they were collapsing, surely the bite was made to paralyze her. She could feel it working, the stiffening in her limbs. Clearly, it was the same poison that was used by that thing. Kara needed to think of something fast, lest she becomes a meal.<br/>Hulda stalked on all fours, her eyes glowed a deep crimson in the darkness, the longevity of her slithering tongue licks the scarlet hue on her lips hungrily. Hulda smiled maliciously, coming closer. The scraping of her nails resonates within the cave. Kara forces herself from her knees, the tensing in her muscles strained, threatening to tear with movement.</p><p>She needs to end this now.</p><p>The monstrous Hulda was in no hurry, she knew she had the hunter beat, all she needed was to wait. In the meantime, Hulda toyed: slowing and quickening her movements, making it a pleasure; if she was going to strike or not. Her body shifted again, growing in length, much larger than the monster before. Her laboured breathing was quickening, huffing, and snarling as sharp serrated bones peeled back her elbows. At least three inches in length.<br/>Size didn't matter; there was no need for intimidation. Kara knew if Hulda wanted her dead, she would have torn at her neck when she had her pinned, but her mind fought back; it gives Kara some chance at fighting. Despite her body paralyzing on her, she gathered her strength, preparing herself for the inevitable. However, one thing was sure: she was not the one going to die here.</p><p>Kara raised her guard, taken by surprise, and sprung aside. Hulda charged forward, missing the hunter by inches, yet her claws slashed across her arm. Kara slammed into the wall, blood seeping down her sleeve. Hulda swung again, attacking with such speed it was difficult for Kara to stay on her toes, to keep moving from the onslaught. Hulda moved around, climbing the grotto's walls like a spider. Kara waited for but a moment when the beast came down on top of her, then leapt over a small boulder, but Hulda wasn't stupid, as she swiftly jumped and flew towards the hunter.</p><p>She didn't let herself be deceived, as her shoulder slams into Kara's chest, then hurling her into the wall. Her talons once more leaving their mark.<br/>The hunter cough; it was rough, and a bit raspy than she liked. Her body was losing its nerve to stand or barely able to raise her arms. She couldn't allow herself to die, not like this anyway. Kara willed herself up from stiffing knees, quivering with her back against the wall. Perhaps this was the end. After the many fights with trolls, giant ogres, wild animals, and werewolves, and every other creature that Kara couldn't name at the top of her head.</p><p>It finally comes down to this moment.</p><p>The effect was close now; she had already lost feeling in her left arm. Hulda came at her, tongue wagging like a starving mutt, dripping hot saliva. It was those glowing blank red eyes that Kara almost didn't see her knife.</p><p>She was still in the fight, this one chance will see her to victory, or death if she isn't careful. When Hulda charge anew, Kara drew her in close, quickly manoeuvring to Hulda's left, jumped, delivering a hard blow to the side of her head. Hulda fell over but not down, she staggered a moment, regaining her composure.<br/>Kara knew that last bit wasn't going to be easy: thanks to her body stiffening; her hits were not the same, no longer phasing the monster woman.<br/>Kara ran for it. Moving as fast as her legs could carry her. She could hear the roaring, the scrapping of claws clawing on her heels.</p><p>She was close, closer now to her only chance at survival. Kara leapt, firmly grasped the dagger in her hand; she rolled on her back in time for the skinny brute to come crashing down on the pointy edge, driving the siderite blade deep within the monster's ribcage. Kara pushed, using the last of her strength to dig her arm deep inside the hotness of the intestines. Hulda let out a terrible cry, wailing and howling as she thrashes about in agony; she tried to escape; however, Kara had thrown her legs around her waist, holding on.</p><p>Hulda's claws lashed at Kara's sides, doing little damage in a final attempt at escaping. Thick droplets of black blood poured from Hulda's stomach, her guts spilling over, drenching leather. Kara continue to push the knife deeper, she could feel Hulda's lungs rapidly collapsing., throbbing frantically.<br/>Finally, Hulda had stopped. Her body fell silent.</p><p>She was dead.</p><p>Kara laid there.</p><p>The last of her strength waning...</p><p>She had survived the brawl. As her eyes began to shutter close, she thought about the rest of her payment from Aldo.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The town was in flames.</p><p>The streets leading to the moat and the first terrace belched smoke and embers, flames devouring the densely clustered thatched houses and licking as the castle wall. From the west, from the harbour gates, Kara could hear the screams and clamour of swords, a vicious battle and the dull blows of battering ram smashing against the walls grew louder.</p><p>Kara had watched from her tower, from the opening of the balcony, she glanced the green banners pour in the streets with the vast army that followed.</p><p>Their attack had surrounded them unexpectedly, shattering Krypton's defences which had been held by a few soldiers of the royal guard. There were spreads of green throughout, burning anything that touch; the screams, the screams terrified Kara as she saw the people, <em>her people </em>burn.</p><p>A snatched pulled at her shoulders, leading her towards the hidden compartment in her closet. </p><p>"Come, your highness, we must go!"</p><p>Shouted the woman. She pulled Kara by the arm, desperately trying to lead her to the eastern border to safety. Warriors that Kara did not recognize, their colours of black and orange intertwining with a red serpent. She caught a glimpse with a man cutting down another from the corner of her eye, the crazed look in his eyes as he bashes the skull with the bronze end of his shield. Elves were fighting alongside the barbarians. Slaughtering the people like cattle, pulling them from their homes, defiling them along the roads. Beyond the markets were lit pyres and on them burn charred corpses. The screams filled the air.</p><p>"This way, come!"</p><p>Again the clashing of swords and the bashing of shields. The fishing huts whirled around Arthur, a fleeting thing, every home belched red flames, streets strewn with corpses. Blood pooled from the bodies, washing over the once dry grounds. Past the black smoke, past the terrain of fire, fear took hold of Kara. Her legs ached from the running, unable to find support, as her eyes watered from the smoke. There soon was a low, deep bellowing horn that gripped Kara in terror: a terrible fear that frozen her to the screams, the roar of the blaze, the cries of dying people and battle, the drumming of drums. </p><p>Kara sees the rider. He had a blood pelt of a bear: a white painted face with black markings; his eyes were red as fire shone between it and the mantled shoulders vast and dark. From his painted mouth, he blew into a horn of skulls. The heathen sits upon his horse. He stares down at Kara, she sees his eyes gleaming with rage, through the slit in his pelt fangs, framed by linked tiny skulls. The fire sparkled in the broad blade of his battle-axe held in his low hand. Blood drips from it. </p><p>The rider looks at her. </p><p>Kara doesn't move; she's scared. Nothing made sense to her: why was this happening?</p><p>The rider spurs his horse, the furs of his mantle fluttering in the wind. The croak of ravens mingles in the gale. There's a loud screeching, terrifyingly cruel. A black stead galloping with purpose and fury. A black rider of black leather and chain, a flowing dark cloak, his axe raised high.</p><p>Kara was frozen, paralyzed, trembling with fear. She hears her name but doesn't answers or looks to the one calling. All she sees is the axe, the rage, and the terrible evil bearing at her. A sea of green flames dancing behind, engulfing all things...</p><p>Kara woke, numb and tired, drenched in sweat. Her hands ached, trembled; she clenches her fists to calm them—her head throbs.</p><p>The fire from the furnace kept her warm from the wind blowing from the opening of the window. Outside the surrounding trees rustles steadily, their limbs and trunks creaking in the gale. She heard no screams, no death, no black rider. </p><p>All was silent.</p><p>The fireplace flames flickered with light and warmth, its reflected flames from the silver buckles of her boots and other shining things in the Inn's room.</p><p>Kara sat up. She grimaced with pain, a faint moan escaping her lips. Her shoulder and both arms were bandaged, thickly and professionally: too fancy for a local physician. Kara stood up, ignoring the pain, she peeks cautiously out the small opening of the shutters. No horses on the street that belonged to the king's men, no knights of the church, or the faint presence of assassin's. All the things she would notice. Nothing but the locals and the cities guards. Kara wondered where she was. The town was much different than Dublin, a large withering white marble wall surrounds the city. It was thirty inches in height, and thick as two walls—tightly packed buildings with grey brick and slate tiled roofs. There sat in the centre of the market, a colossal fountain of bundle cupids made of stone. In their hands were urns, adorned with silver, pouring water streamed, sparkling.</p><p>On Kara's left was an oak chair, fashionably crafted, her clothes were neatly folded, sat atop the studded velvet seat. Her weapon dressed in sheep fur sat upward on the whitened stone wall, adjacent from the hunter. </p><p>Kara sighs. </p><p>The bed dips, and the pillows embrace the tired hunter's head. Above Kara swayed a small chandelier of iron. The barrel ceiling looked stabled enough to hold it. It was then that Kara heard the footfalls outside the door catching her attention. The entrance opens to welcome a plump man carrying a silver platter laden with food, a slice of baked bread near a jar of honey.</p><p>"You're awake finally." </p><p>The man entered the room, sitting the tray near. Kara kept her eyes on the barreled ceiling, blankly staring. </p><p>"Where am I?" </p><p>Kara asks.</p><p>"Oh, you don't know? Well, you were in bad shape when you arrived here. I suppose that makes sense for not knowing where you are. Anyway, you're in Edon."</p><p>"Edon?" Kara finally looked at the man.</p><p>"Yes, ma'am."</p><p>"The person who brought me here: where did they go?"</p><p>"Don't know. The man paid for your expenses, lasting 'til the summer. A generous man if you ask me."</p><p>"Hm. Who do I have to thank for this?" Kara motions to the dressing of her wounds.</p><p>"Illana. My daughter. As soon as you arrived here, a woman; she undeviatingly asked for her. She cared for your wounds. She left an hour ago for more herb and some white sage for your cuts. You were bleeding all over. Frankly, I wasn't sure what my daughter could do for you. You were as good as dead. No offence. What are you doing?"</p><p>"Leaving," Kara told him.</p><p>"But my daughter-- you're wounds. Surely you can not expect to travel? Beasts will smell you." Kara overlooked the man's concern. She sat on the edge of the bed, fastening the leather straps of her boots. The pain had not subsided, as she made low groans; her ribs were throbbing slightly. "You're wounds aren't healed yet. You need to rest more, at least a day or two." He pleads with the hunter.</p><p>Kara groans.</p><p>"Father."</p><p>A young woman, wrapped in her mantle, the girl pattered toward Kara, her bare feet slapping the floor, flushed awkwardly: a soft rose petal hue on her cheeks. Her father excuses himself, leaving his daughter alone. The woman sat near Kara, tending her. Her hands were soft, gentle and delicate; she smelled of chamomile-scented raspberry. Her eyes were blue. And she had freckles on her nose, her neckline and shoulders were attractive. Kara felt attracted, slightly, but she wasn't the one that she longed for. The one she wanted to kill.</p><p>"I hope you weren't annoyed with my father. He tends to say things told in confidence." </p><p>She sat on the edge of the bed and skillfully unwound the linen bandages. The girl felt the wound, washed it and began to treat it. Kara felt the woman's hands, her fingers lightly caressing her skin. She had already known this routine by heart. The woman had started on the very first day and had never failed to moan when she saw the marks left by the fiend. Her breasts wound Kara's arm. She moved closer, closer until she was flushed against the hunter. </p><p>"When I first saw, bloody, scarred. I thought you were dead, but I felt you... the speck of ember burning inside you. I felt it calling to me as if you needed me more than anything in the world. I knew then that I had to help you, save you."</p><p>"What are you doing?"</p><p>Kara breathed out as she fell to her back. The woman slowly fell atop her, straddling her, wrapping her thighs around Kara. Leaning forward on straining arms. Kara laid, she did not move, did not stir. The girl flitted closer, threw off her mantle and slowly, hesitantly, rested her knee on the large bed. She brushed Kara's face with hair which smelled lovingly. She touched her eyelids, cheeks, lips with the tips of her breasts. They were small, pointy, erect. She smiled, very slowly, delicately, grasping Kara by the shoulders, and she straightened. Her hands moved lower to the straps, she unfastens them, pulling teasingly, and with a light but decisive movement of her hips, demanded a response. Kara responded...</p><p>The fresh evening air filled Kara's lungs. The taste of salt from the ocean, the light of the sun kisses her skin. Kara felt the sand between her toes, the washing of the waves engulfing feet. Her hair blew with the wind, rippling at her back. She felt the warm, smooth arms around her waist. And the light kiss on her neck.</p><p>"I woke without you beside me."</p><p>The woman spoke.</p><p>"I didn't want to surprise your father. Remember last time?" The memory brought a smile to their faces. Kara sighs, looking off int he distance. Her lover senses the emotions stir in Kara, as she knew what was wrong.</p><p>"Are you not happy? I thought..."</p><p>"Don't!" </p><p>Kara took her by the hands, she turned in the woman's arms, kissing her softly on her lips. She pulled back with a faint moan. "I'm happy, more than I've ever been in a long time."</p><p>The woman smiled, but it would fade with knowing. "It's her, isn't it? The woman you whisper in her sleep. You still think of her." Kara said nothing, she continues to hold the woman in her arms as her voice slowly broke. She felt the tears run her arm. </p><p>"Why?"</p><p>"I'm sorry."</p><p>They both stared deeply in the other's eyes. They embraced, kissing once more, a final goodbye from the time they had. Kara's hands rested in the woman's hips, her right slowly moved to the back of the woman's neck as the kiss soon became desperate, and passionate.</p><p>"Let me have you, Kara. One last time."</p><p>Kara looked into her tearful eyes. She nodded her head.</p><p>The months had meant more to her than she could possibly know. Since that day, alone, heat rousing from their bodies as they took each other. Kara knew then that one day she would destroy everything they created. Despite her guilt, pain; she tried, wanted to forget all that had happened to her, her family, her people. But Kara could not: the heinous crimes committed; Kara could never forgive the acts. Everything, everyone she loves is gone.</p><p>Kara laid atop the woman, her hips moving slowly, thrusting forward, she bit down on her lips as the woman bites down on her shoulder; her hands grasping at Kara's back. Her legs wrapped firmly around the waist. Kara gripped her thighs, pulling the warm flesh, so smooth and tender, her curvy hips. Kara focuses her attention on the woman; she was very passionate, breathing hard. Her eyes were closed, and her hand was still on Kara's back, now moving down to hold her hips, a firm grasps guiding Kara inside her. Their hands came together, finger laced, and Kara heard her hitch in her breath. She swallowed hard moved her hand between them, feeling Kara's cock, so thick, throbbing, plunge deeper into her. </p><p>The woman's hand squeezed harder. Kara moaned aloud. She moved faster, harder, making the woman cry louder. The bed creaked under them, hitting against the grey wall, the window panels threatening to break. Kara sat one hand on the oak headboard; she threw the woman's thigh on her shoulder, she gained momentum and quickly slammed her hips. The woman's voice raised, hands caressing the toned stomach. She writhed in ecstasy. Their tongues swirled, glistening lips capturing the other. It was intense.</p><p>"Love me, Kara. Love me more... please." </p><p>Her enthusiasm was contagious. Tears were rolling down her cheeks.</p><p>She began to climb on top of Kara, she took hold of Kara, guiding her at the entrance of her womanhood. She slid down slowly, eyes ever focused. Her lips parted in sweet serenity, renewed with the warm filling of Kara inside her. She closed her eyes and moaned as her body slid down. Kara could feel the quivers inside as she rubbed every bump and ridge inside. She felt the woman contract around her shaft during her explosion of pleasure as she sank those last inches down to the base. The woman gyrated her hips, enjoying the last few drops of joy out of their union. She opened her eyes to see Kara's contorted face, so beautiful, she reached out, licking Kara's fingers, sucking two between her supple lips. She lifts herself hard, fast, drawing every cry from her lover; she feels Kara throbbing: knew she was close.</p><p>"I feel you... I feel you inside, Kara. Let me have you. I want all of you inside me, always."</p><p>Kara growled, thrusting her hips upward, she grasps the woman's hips, slamming her from below. The moans carried outside the bedroom.</p><p>"Harder. Love me harder."</p><p>They flipped over, soon Kara was flushed against the woman's back. Her lips sucked on her ear, she rose to her knees, pulling the woman's by her hips, her face buried in the messy pile of pillows. The bed rocked, knocking some platter to the floor. The woman screamed, loving every thrust, every pound she receives from Kara. She reached behind, spreading herself for Kara, who held her arms firmly as she pounded her harder. </p><p>Kara took hold of her cheeks, digging her hands, tender bulging flesh between her fingers, rippling with every thrust of her hips. The woman bit down on the pillows, tears wetting them. </p><p>"Love me, Kara."</p><p>Kara felt herself getting close. She hit harder, faster and faster still until she poured her essence. Every shot spilt inside, filling the woman, seeping from the corners, pooling at her thighs. Kara kept up her pleasuring, pushing more and more. She felt the woman squeezing her, taking all she could. Kara shot a hand out on the headboard while still giving all she's got. She gave a final thrust, throwing her head back, Kara yelled, spilling the last of her seed...</p><p>Kara fastened her saddle. "Where will you go?"</p><p>"The war is in the west. Argo forces continue to take the country back from the Luthorians'. I have a contract that puts me that way." The woman placed her arms around Kara. </p><p>"Kara..."</p><p>"I'll be all right. It's the last one, then I'll be done."</p><p>"Return to me. I don't care about who you were; I love you. And I'll wait for you. No matter what. Come back to me." She spoke kindly and lovingly. Kara said nothing, she kissed the woman her lips, smelled the sweet smell of chamomile. Kara mounted her mare. She gave the silver pendant with her family crest. </p><p>"I'll be back for that." Kara smiles. The woman returns it in kind with a gentle kiss.</p><p>Kara saddles her mare and rode against the wind. The gale lashed out at Kara's face as she rode across the terrain, the leaves swirling around her like a flock. She crossed the stream of babbling water. She gave a final glance at the young woman that cared for her, ease her nightmares, and loved her tenderly. And yet Kara would never truly love her the way she wants and have the family she desperately wanted. It would be the last she would see of Sam, the innkeeper's daughter.</p><p>The sun casts a red line over the horizon. A flock of seagulls is like silhouettes across the sky, hovering below the clouds. Sam looks across the lush meadows at the woman riding ever far from her. Soon to lose sight. Her hand lowers to her stomach, gently circling the life in inside her.</p><p>Atop a bouldering hill sits a rider on a pale horse. Armour of silver and white, a silver medallion picturing a wolf head around her neck. "You would leave me for her? I will show you, my love. You will always be mine, Kara. Forever. I will never let you go." The silver woman looked down at the small settlement of families; she stared at the woman who has stolen Kara from her. The sunlight rays dancing in her red eyes.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you guys enjoy.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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